Memories like that, little snippets of her life, were appearing to her more often this past week. Though there’d been no significant breakthrough, each time she remembered something she felt as if another piece of a complex jigsaw puzzle had been laid in place. How long, she wondered, before the picture would begin to take shape, or before it would be complete? Would it ever be complete?
And did she want it to be?
She felt a strange shiver scurry over her skin. Maybe there were things she was better off not remembering, she thought.
Shane slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Cold?”
She leaned into him and shook her head, let herself enjoy the moment of being with the man she loved in the romantic ambience of this elegant restaurant, with its dark mahogany paneling and crystal votives flickering on white linen tablecloths. Strange that she would feel just as comfortable here, in this formal opulence, as she had at an Irish pub.
They’d barely sat down at the bar and ordered drinks when the opening notes of Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik rang from Claudia’s purse and she pulled out her cell phone.
“Frank Gordon, you scoundrel. You’ve made me chase you all over Boston for a measly five million dollars,” Claudia purred into her phone, then covered the receiver and whispered to Emily, “Gotta take this. I’ll be back in five, no more than ten.”
She blew out of the bar in the direction of the ladies’ room, gesturing to emphasize a point, then waving at someone she knew across the room.
Shane glanced at Emily, his brow lifted in question. “Frank Gordon, as in Combyte Communications Frank Gordon?”
“That’s the one.” The entire world had heard of Frank Gordon, especially since his computer company had been sold recently for around ten billion dollars. “Claudia told me yesterday that he was making a contribution to one of the charities she sponsors.”
“A measly five million.”
“She’s very good at what she does,” Emily said with pride. “My mother told me it’s one of the reasons she doesn’t work at Baronessa. When she sets her sights on a project, she has a bull-in-a-china-shop personality. The dynamics of working for a large company with lots of family members doesn’t suit her.”
“But it suited you?”
She reached for the glass of white wine the bartender set in front of her. “Everyone tells me I enjoyed my work. I’m thinking it’s time I went back.”
Emily’s comment hit Shane like a bucket of ice water. With her amnesia, he hadn’t considered she’d be going back to work, at least not for a long while.
Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to think about it, because he knew that every step she took to regain her life before the accident took her farther away from him.
“You’re going back to work?” he asked carefully.
“It’s been more than three weeks.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “They’ve set up temporary offices in another warehouse and Derrick wants me to come back to work.”
And away from me, Shane thought irritably. Emily’s brother had made it more than clear he didn’t like her dating anyone out of the Barones’ social status. Once Derrick got her back to work and her old routine, he probably thought he’d be able to control her personal life, as well.
And was he any different from Derrick in that respect? Shane wondered. Didn’t he want to keep Emily all to himself, too? He wanted to protect her and keep her safe, but without any entanglements or promises. It was selfish on his part, he knew, and unfair to Emily. “What do you want?”
She glanced up. “What do I want?”
“Forget what Derrick wants,” Shane said more sharply than he intended. “Do you want to go back to work?”
“I admit the idea of being in an unfamiliar situation with people who are still strangers makes me nervous,” she said quietly. “But I need to do something. I need to face my past and think about my future, too.”
His hand tightened on his beer glass. “What does that mean?”
“I had a life before my accident, Shane, a family. They will always be my family. Even though I don’t remember very much of that life, I know they love me and they’ll always be there for me.”
“And I won’t,” he said evenly. “Is that what you’re saying?”
She went very still. “Shane, this conversation has nothing to do with you and me.”
“Doesn’t it?” His gaze met hers and held. “Can you honestly tell me that in the future, as you put it, you could be happy with our relationship the way it is now?”
“I—I wasn’t talking about that future. I was talking about working and my family. Why are you saying this to me now?”
God help him, he didn’t know why. Still, he couldn’t seem to stop it. “Maybe it’s the look in your eye when you talk about family and knowing they love you and that they’ll always be there. All the things I can’t give you. That and so much more.”
“What do you mean, so much more?” She narrowed her eyes. “What more could I want than that?”
“Everything.” He had to take a breath so he could get it out smoothly. “Marriage, children. A big house on solid land. You deserve all that.”
“Have I asked you for that?” Her words were edged with ice. “Have I asked anything of you?”
She hadn’t. And irrational as it was, that bothered him more than anything.
“I’m a grown woman, Shane. I think I know what I want more than anyone else.”
“You don’t know what you want right now, Emily. When you get your memory back, when you remember who you are and where you come from, everything will be different.”
“Who I am and where I come from?” She repeated his words with a cool, deadly calm. “You think if my memory fully returns that who I was will be so different from who I am now? That who my family is and how much money or prestige they have will make a difference as to what I want or don’t want?”
“Emily, for God’s sake, it’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple, Shane.” Her gaze leveled with his. “Do you believe that about me?”
Dammit. How the hell had they gotten to this place? he wondered. But there was no way out now, no turning back. And he wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t lie.
“Yes.”
He saw the hurt in her eyes, heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Emily, dammit, I’m—”
“An idiot,” she finished for him, then slid off her bar stool and leaned in close. “A complete idiot.”
He took hold of her arm to stop her from walking away, then heard the beep from the pager in his pocket. Swearing, he pulled it out. The code was an emergency call. “I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “But I’ve got to go.”
“I understand.” She pulled her arm from his hand.
“Your family—”
“My family will understand.”
Dammit. Of all the times to get a call. He hated leaving her like this, but he had no choice. She stiffened when he moved closer, but did not back away. “We can’t leave it like this,” he said quietly. “I’ll call you later.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then stepped back. “Thank you for everything, Shane.”
She turned then and melted into the crowd. He took a step after her, then stopped. Seconds could make a difference between life and death on an emergency call.
Maybe it was for the best, he thought as he made his way out of the restaurant. He’d never wanted to hurt her, but he couldn’t give her what he knew she wanted, what she deserved.
And still, knowing all that, knowing that it was better to let it end before their relationship got any more complicated, knowing that it was best for Emily, didn’t ease the ache in his own chest or the empty hole in his gut.
Eleven
“Three Buds, two pints and a Sam Adams.” Katie slid a tray of bussed glasses onto the bar counter. “Table six wants an order of wings and a stack of fries.”
While Katie hurried of
f to bus another table, Shane dumped the tray of dirty glasses, called the food order back to the kitchen, then reached for a fresh round of mugs. With Saturday night Celtics playoffs on the big-screen TV, the pub was packed with fewer families, but lots of thirsty, hungry fans.
“Shane,” called Bobby Vickers, a local who worked at the marina yacht club, as he hurried over with two empty bowls. “We need more pretzels, three Coors Light and a pitcher of soda, extra ice.”
Bobby turned when an explosion of cheers rocked the room, then ran back to his table to find out what happened.
“Two Irish coffees, extra whip on one.” Katie was back with another order. “One brandy, one hot tea, and the blonde in the corner booth asked me to give you her number.”
Shane glanced toward the corner booth, saw the pretty blonde smile at him. He did his best to muster up interest, and was more than annoyed that it simply wasn’t there. To be polite, he smiled back at the woman and tucked the slip of paper into his shirt pocket, but he had no plans to call her.
Orders came at him from every direction, but Shane was grateful to be busy. Since his last shift at the fire station, he’d been working at the pub the past three days. It helped keep his mind focused and off other things.
Other things being Emily.
It had been a week since the fiasco at the restaurant. She hadn’t answered her phone, though he’d left several messages, and she hadn’t returned any of his calls.
It was for the best, he’d told himself a hundred times over the past week. It was. He had no reason to feel angry, dammit.
So why the hell did he?
With the basketball game down to the last three minutes and all the customers preoccupied for the moment, Shane grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar, determined not to think about Emily. And he didn’t. For all of forty-five seconds.
He cursed himself and the timing of the house fire that had pulled him away from dinner. He could still hear the cool tone of her voice, could still see the hurt in her eyes and the lift of her shoulders as she’d walked away.
Whatever feelings she’d had for him had been born from gratitude, anyway, he reasoned. Once Emily was back at work and she fully remembered her past, she’d forget about him. Move on with her life.
Find someone else.
The thought was like a fist in his gut. What the hell did he expect? Of course she’d find someone else. She was beautiful, sweet and loving, fun to be with. He’d seen the way other men looked at her, including the guys at the station. She’d have her pick of men.
But just the idea of her being with anyone else had him tightly squeezing the rag in his hand, pretending it was the guy’s neck.
“He’s doing it again.”
Startled, Shane glanced up and saw Katie standing beside his uncle. They were watching him, their arms folded.
“Third time in the past hour.” Amusement shone in his uncle’s eyes. “He overfilled a pitcher earlier until he was ankle deep in beer.”
“I told you,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “The valve stuck.”
“He put a wedge of lime in Gail Winters’s diet cola.”
“She liked it that way,” Shane defended himself, though he’d clearly made a mistake.
“I suppose Greg Novy liked the cherry you put in his Corona, too?”
Actually, Greg hadn’t liked that at all. “So I made a couple of mistakes. Fire me.”
“Something tells me you made a mistake, all right.” His uncle cocked his head. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with working here.”
Shane frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t mentioned Emily for the past week.” Katie poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter.
“Since when do I ever talk about the women I date?” he said irritably.
“Since when do you bring them to the pub?” Katie remarked.
He never had. But did Katie have to be so damn observant about it? “We were seeing each other for a little while,” he said with a shrug, then began wiping down the same section of the bar he’d scrubbed only a moment before. “It was never serious.”
“Is that so?” His uncle lifted a brow. “So Emily has nothing to do with the fact that you haven’t taken your boat out in a week and you’ve been hanging around here on your days off?”
“If you don’t want my help, say so,” Shane grumbled.
The truth was, being alone on his boat only made him think of Emily more. Everywhere he looked he could see her, could still smell the sweet scent of her perfume. And every night he’d reached for her in his sleep, only to wake up and realize she wasn’t there. The damn woman was making him crazy.
The knowing look that his uncle and Katie exchanged only increased Shane’s insanity. “I’m sure you both have something better to do than worry about my love life.”
“I don’t have anything better to do.” Katie took another sip of her coffee and glanced at Darcy. “How ’bout you?”
“I’ve always got plenty of time for a lad with woman troubles,” Darcy said. “And for my own nephew, I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“I’ve got plenty of time, too,” Greg said from his bar stool.
“I took my wife flowers when I proposed,” Henry Cooper said from his stool beside Greg. “Women like that romantic stuff.”
The pub erupted into raucous cheers as the basketball game finally ended. Shane welcomed the rush at the bar that at least momentarily curtailed any further advice or discussion regarding his personal life.
He didn’t need any advice, Shane thought as he filled empty glasses with soda and beer. He wasn’t proposing to Emily. He wasn’t proposing to anyone.
Even if he considered proposing—which he wasn’t— she wouldn’t speak to him now. Not after the way he’d left her.
Whether she knew it or not, he told himself, she was better off without him.
The ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton had never looked more beautiful. Lights twinkled from every corner and the scent of flowers filled the room. Six-foot topiaries covered with blooms of white mums, pink carnations and stargazer daylilies surrounded the outer walls; centerpieces of burgundy roses and bubbling sprays of white baby’s breath graced every tabletop. The live music of Benny Goodman and John Coltrane greeted the men and women entering through a red-rose-and-ivy-covered arbor.
Emily stood on the sidelines and watched Claudia personally welcome every guest. Her sister looked gorgeous in the shimmery, strapless blue dress she wore. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and around her neck. Several of the men, in awe of Claudia’s beauty, nearly stumbled when she shook their hand or kissed their cheek.
“It’s like watching a ballet, isn’t it?”
Emily turned at the sound of her mother’s voice. “A ballet?”
“The way she moves everyone through, with grace and charm. It’s quite captivating. And I do believe that tonight she’s outdone herself.”
Emily glanced around the ballroom, at the sea of black tuxedos and elegant gowns. White-gloved servers carried silver trays of tasty morsels and crystal flutes of bubbling champagne. “Everything is beautiful.”
“It has to be.” Sandra snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. “Claudia will be reaching deep into everyone’s pockets tonight for the Brookline Emergency Center and she wants to be sure they get their money’s worth. Here’s to a successful and very lucrative evening.”
Emily lifted her glass to her mother’s. “I heard one guest ask her if she had a blood bank set up to go along with the two-thousand-dollar-a-plate meal.”
Sandra laughed. “Most of the men who’ve been dragged here by their wives complain, but once our Claudia turns on the charm, they can’t write those checks fast enough. By the way, have I told you how exquisite you look tonight?”
“Three times.” Emily smiled at her mother. “But thank you again.”
Claudia had gone shopping with her for the slinky black evening gown that w
as cut low in the front and high on the sides. In spite of all the compliments, Emily still couldn’t help but feel just a little bit like Cinderella at the ball.
Would she ever get used to all this grandeur? she wondered when her mother turned to say hello to one of her bridge friends. Emily knew she’d been raised around money, but she remembered so little about her life. Everyone told her she needed more time, that she shouldn’t try to rush anything. She supposed they were right. Time would restore most, if not all, of her memory and help her settle back into a comfortable routine.
But would it heal her broken heart?
Two weeks certainly hadn’t eased the pain any. Though she’d smiled and laughed and gone through all the motions since the night at the restaurant, including starting back at her old job, she still felt hollow inside.
Yet, in spite of her pain, there were no regrets. She’d fallen hopelessly in love with Shane, and even though he didn’t love her back and was so certain they were too different to have a relationship or a life together, she wouldn’t change a thing that had happened to her, including her accident and her amnesia. Those were the things that had brought him into her life, and for that she would always be thankful.
She forced her mind back to the buzz of conversation around her and a lively rendition of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” that had several couples swing dancing on the floor. She would have a good time tonight, she decided. She would dance and mingle and indulge in the decadent dessert buffet set up in the corner. She already had her eye on a four-layer chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting and raspberry filling.
Sipping her champagne, she turned back toward Claudia, then froze.
Shane.
Looking handsome as the devil in black tie, he stood in the reception line with Captain Griffin and several other firemen from the station. His broad shoulders were stiff, his jaw tight as he moved forward with his crew to say hello to Claudia.
Where There's Smoke... Page 12